The Andalite Wars
by Soul Raider 116
Summary: It's been more than ten years since the events of Animorphs took place. Peace never lasts, and we seem to be looking for a fight now. Andalites have given humans some technology, some we learned based on Yeerk wreckage; still it might actually be an even match.
1. 1: Cassie

**Info** :

 **Title** : Andalite Wars

 **Fandom** : Animorphs

 **Official Genres** : Adventure;Drama

 **Other Genres** : Family;Friendship

 **Rating** : T (just to be safe)

 **Content Notes** :

*Working on the assumption that ramming the Blade Ship failed (tragic, but for this story it feels right) Cassie is the only original Animorph.

*This explores the concept that war is perpetual. I've noticed a trend in, for instance, the wars the U.S. fights in the Middle East, we try to help one country, and give them weapons, extremists get a hold of those weapons and turn them on us. In this story, Paranoid humans are the extremists.

*My previous statement is in no way anti-Middle East, or anti Muslim. It's more a statement on human nature. We tend to turn against one another very easily. Look at my own country's government. Even in the same party they tear each other down, when we could be working for a common good.

*I plan to try to stay close to K.A. Applegate's original Animorphs style. Though the way I write may get more intense. We'll see.

*I am trying to work in line with the original Animorphs timeline, keeping that in mind, Cassie would be around 33 when my story begins, that doesn't seem unreasonable to me...I'm figuring that the Andalite Chronicles started around the 70s. I also figured 82 made a reasonable birth year for the Animorphs. That means that Elfangor met the kids around '96, when they were 13 or 14. They fought for three years, so 96, 97, 98. Then three years passed before that final line in the series, 99, 2000, 2001. Take time for peace, and then some build up to the point where our story starts...now it's around 2015, making Cassie 33.

*Not sure yet, but this may be broken into multiple stories.

 **Summary** : It's been more than ten years since the events of Animorphs took place. Peace never lasts, and we seem to be looking for a fight now. Andalites have given humans some technology, some we learned based on Yeerk wreckage; still it might actually be an even match.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : I've been meaning to write this for a long time. I've tried starting an RP around it a couple times, and may have taken some inspiration from characters others made for those RPs. If you see a character based on one you made for an RP, let me know, so I can credit you! I know the idea of an exchange student on the Andalite world is adapted from someone who was part of one of the sites.

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own Animorphs. The are the intellectual genius of K.A. Applegate. (Or are they? Mac[intosh Apple] + Gateway = Applegate...well played Marco...well played...)

 **Guest Replies** : Here is where I will reply to reviews from guests!

 **Word Count** : 2,003

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Cassie**

* * *

I glanced around as I walked down the street, Toby tall at my side. We were certainly drawing our share of stares, and I'm going to guess it wasn't me they were looking at.

Even if you'd already seen her picture, or spotted her on film, Toby is still something to behold in person. A fearsome sight, nearly eight feet tall, a serpentine neck, sharp beak, blades at her wrists, elbows, knees...all features perfectly adapted to her life of peacefully eating bark. Not that most people would give her the chance to explain that.

"I thought they were sending a car of some sort..." Toby mumbled, casting a cautious glance toward an armed man, she and I could both see him inching for a concealed weapon.

I offered a smile to the stranger, holding up an ID that showed I was supposed to be here, Toby did the same, "I guess they forgot. It's not that long a walk."

"You're not the one they view as a walking weapon." She sighed in return, her history with humans other than my friends and myself not being great.

If you're wondering what's going on, then maybe you slept through history class. Maybe you never heard about the Animorphs, or as Marco used to call us, the "idiot teenagers with a death wish."

It would be nice to hear his voice...hear any of them...but those days are far behind. This teenager is in her thirties now. I'm Cassie...and after Rachel died, after Ax went missing, when Jake, Marco and Tobias vanished trying to save him...I became the last known surviving Animorph.

"Cassie? Are you alright? You look troubled." Toby, a Hork-Bajir who traveled with me now to the headquarters of the International Committee on Extraterrestrial Relations (ICER for short) broke my thoughts.

"Yeah, fine," I sighed softly, "I was just thinking about the others...It's been over ten years now."

It really has been ten over ten years since the war ended. Over ten years that I've been working as an advocate for the Hork-Bajir, along with another job as a veterinarian. More than ten years since Rachel died...and since Jake, Tobias, and Marco vanished.

I still see them in my dreams sometimes...and not always the same nightmares from the war. Sometimes they're dreams of life before everything changed...or of what life could have been. Those are the saddest.

I dream of Jake a lot...I guess you can't fall out of love; even when you find the person isn't who you loved anymore, you still love who they were. So I dream of what we might have had if the war hadn't changed him, hadn't changed us.

I've been through counseling. It helps, but I know part of me is keeping it from helping entirely. I'm the last one, I hold all that's left of them, and I know it's silly, but I'm afraid to move on entirely.

So much has happened in the years since they've been gone. For six of them, there's been an exchange program where earth students travel to the Andalite Home World to study. It's one sided, but Andalites still think we're primitive. College students were the only ones allowed at first, but last year they opened it to high schoolers too. There are fifteen students there now, ten college level, and five high school.

Rachel's sisters have grown into beautiful adults. Jordan is a lawyer, like their mother, full of fire like Rachel always was. Sara is a teacher, middle school history. She says passing on our story is the best way she can honor her oldest sister's memory. They both look so much like her.

Morphing has become common in our military. I think it's a good thing they're keeping it out of civilian hands. While it has great potential to do good, the idea of a person with morphing technology going on a murder spree is frightening.

Myself, I've become a bit more cynical, I suppose. When you're the last survivor of your friends that can happen. When you've watched tensions growing over ten years between humans and Andalites, despite your best efforts to make peace, and for no reason other than unfounded suspicions, it draws out your cynical side.

I looked up as Toby and I stopped walking. Before us stood the ICER compound, far larger than likely necessary, mostly for show. Guards stood outside the gate, hardly noticing me, a shorter than average African American woman with silver streaked hair kept short.

Their focus was on the Hork-Bajir at my side, and it was easy to see all the fuss was making Toby upset.

"They were supposed to send a car," I spoke to grab the guard's attention, showing my ID, "Apparently they forgot. I'm Cassie, this is Toby Hamee, we're supposed to speak at the Summit."

"Right...of course." The guard on the right gave a jerky nod, muttering into a Bluetooth device. I couldn't hear the reply, but he offered an annoyed sigh before signalling to his friend on the left, "Alright, you two are cleared to enter."

"Thanks." I gave the pair a small smile as Toby and I passed. Inside, we were greeted by a committee member.

"There must have been a mix up with the car," The man smiled in a way that didn't feel genuine, "How very devoted to your cause, walking all the way here."

The silent glance at Toby was enough to know he meant walking with her at my side, "I've told you before, the Hork-Bajir are peaceful by nature. If you'd just let Toby mingle with people on occasion-"

"So you've said. Thank you for coming to discuss your position, anyway," He sighed, smiling ruefully, "Of course we can't be sure when we will get to your statements."

"Peace should be everyone's position," Toby spoke up gently, "Fighting is a last resort, or so it should be. If we can help to stop unneeded violence, then we will wait however long we must."

"Toby's right, of course." I nodded, "Even if we have to walk every day, we'll be here. Of course, a ride is preferred."

"Cassie?" I turned to see who was calling me and saw a tall, full figured woman with olive skin walking our way. Her dark hair was twisted into a neat bun behind her and she wore a pantsuit in a color I remember Rachel once calling salmon. Strange the things you remember.

"Senator Hill, thank you for contacting me!" I smiled, glad to see a friendly face instead of the man I had just been speaking to, who still scowled nearby.

"Call me Gloria, and who else should I go to? When Eva said there was an Animorph left, I thought, 'This is my only hope!'" She paused, sadness in her eyes, "I know it's already been a long time, but I am so sorry about your friends...I didn't know the others, but Marco was a good boy...a dork sometimes, but we'll assume he inherited that from his father."

"You're Marco's cousin, right? So it's your loss too. I'm sorry..." I wasn't sure what else to say.

"He's the one who got lost in space," she puffed a laugh. "You don't apologize for that! Besides, space is big, he's probably still out there somewhere! Hey, Eva was, and she died on earth!"

"Yeah, maybe," I smiled, wanting to believe what she was saying.

"Oh!" Gloria turned to Toby with a grin, "Apparently I forgot my manners! You must be Toby Hamee. It's a real pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. I'm glad to help." Toby gave the Hork-Bajir version of a smile, and dipped her spiked head.

Blinking, the senator seemed to register that the man first greeted us still stood there, "Oh, thanks for greeting them for me. I can take it from here, bye!"

After a final scowl he departed, Gloria folding her arms and watching him go, "That would be Clyde Rogers. He's not too happy with me. I'm still pretty new to Washington, and he seems to think my connection with Marco is the only reason I'm on this committee. He also happens to be a creep who thinks anyone outside the human race is a threat."

"And you don't think that," It was a statement of fact, she didn't, or I wouldn't be here. I was opening the door for her to elaborate, but I had a feeling she had the same reasons as Marco's parents for wanting peace.

"The Andalites might have screwed up, but humans have wreaked our share of havoc too. If Elfangor hadn't met you guys...Eva would have been a slave of the Yeerks forever," She gave a small smile, "We all would have had weird slugs in our heads eventually. The Andalites had a big problem, they were trying, right? And Marco knew what he was doing when he flew off to play hero one last time, I'm not going to blame Ax."

Marco's family had probably dealt with the overall situation best, accepting things in a way even I was having trouble with. I guess they had Eva's perspective as former host to Visser One to thank in part.

Maybe if Tom had survived to tell the Berenson's how terrible being a controller was, their family wouldn't be so divided. Jake's parents seemed to hate the Andalites now. Rachel's family was split down the middle. But at least none of them seemed to put blame for Tom and Rachel's deaths on Jake.

"Well, ladies, I hope you're ready for a fight," Gloria sighed, gesturing that I should follow her, "We aren't completely alone in our position, but Clyde has gathered a check of a lot of support."

"What do you think our chances are?" I asked, honestly curious but wary of the answer as Toby and I walked along with her.

"If we can hear from an Animorph and a Hork-Bajir, it might get people to see things our way," She sighed, turning down a long hallway, "But honestly, we're grasping at straws..."

"Then we do what we must to make as many see as possible," Toby responded, one clawed hand clenched in determination.

"Exactly," Gloria smiled in reply, coming to a stop and opening a door to a large room full of people from around the world.

The crowd began to murmur as they saw us, and we followed the Senator to where she was sitting. Leaning into her microphone she spoke, "Sorry for that delay, it seems my guests arrived a bit late. Somehow there was some confusion over their transportation, so they walked. May I introduce Cassie, who fought as one of the Animorphs; and Toby Hamee, the first Hork-Bajir born into freedom since the Yeerks enslaved her people, and a seer to her kind."

More murmurs erupted, though she silenced them quickly by continuing with a commanding tone, "And yes, they will be speaking here, for the record. See to it that it's fit into the schedule."

Nearby I could see Clyde, gritting his teeth so fiercely it was almost audible. Clearly he wasn't a fan of Gloria's easy confidence and command of the room.

"Then let's resume, shall we?" A woman who looked to be in her seventies spoke in an British accent. I was informed she was the chairperson of the Summit.

"As I was saying, these Andalites refuse to give us more than what they consider rudimentary technology," A translator let us know what a Russian man was saying across the room, "Why? They want to be able to crush us!"

"That's not right..." I mumbled, "After the Yeerks they're being cautious..."

"Ssh..." Gloria cast a weary smile at me, "We get our turn, but they get to spout this nonsense first."

And that's how things proceeded. We were stuck listening to them talk about things they didn't understand. Gloria gave me some paper so Toby and I could frantically scribble notes on what counterpoints to make when the time came.

* * *

 **Post Notes** : There's Chapter one. As you may have guessed from Cassie's name on the chapter, I plan to write in a Megamorphs style. The narrator's will include one more canon character, and four OCs. Six narratives total, in balance with the original Animorphs structure. For now, this story is just 'The Andalite Wars' but if I decide to divide it into multiple stories, I'm subtitling this one "The Break." Who knows, maybe I'll use this to launch stories entirely from one character's Narrative, and make a series of Andalite War fics in six character rotation. Any opinions?

 **Post Note 2** : Also, since I'm working with the concept of official war, I was hoping to maybe get some help with rank terms and such from someone. My main fighters for the humans will be considered part of the air force, though they will work in space via adapted Yeerk tech. It's very important to me to be accurate in my use of terms, ranks, and their adaptation to a space division.


	2. 2: Jordan

**Author's Notes** : Since I'm way past due...here ya go. I'm gonna try to update on the second Monday of every month. And so the second Narrator is revealed. I'm still interested in having a person who knows about military, especially air force, to consult with. I can do the research online, but first-hand knowledge is awesome and reliable. So if you are military or know about military life from personal experience, message me, please!

 **Disclaimer** : As per usual, I don't own Animorphs. I own my OCs, though their concepts may be influenced by the ideas of others. I also own the concept of Andalite Wars, or at least this incarnation of it. Anything resembling the original Animorphs canon, that's K.A. Applegate's.

 **Guest Replies** :

No guest reviews to reply to. Thanks to the the members who reviewed though!

 **Word Count** : 1,520 w/o notes

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Jordan**

* * *

Work had been rather draining, and though I had plans, I just needed to take a while to sit and rest. I kicked off my heels by the door with a sigh of relief, removing the jacket portion of my outfit. Leaving the navy suit coat draped over the back of a chair I proceeded too the living room of my decent sized apartment, flopping onto the couch and grabbing the remote.

As I hit the power button, the picture revealed the news channel I had been watching that morning. The headline caught my eye.

"International Committee on Extraterrestrial Relations to begin Alien Risk Assessment Summit today," Thats what the text in the little red box read.

I let out a puff of air. Of course aliens were a risk. The summit focused specifically on the Andalites. News coverage had been hinting such a meeting might be on the horizon. Well, the Andalites weren't benevolent saviors. My sister gave her life because those creatures couldn't fight their own war!

If you're curious, my sister was Rachel. I'm Jordan. My sister was brave, beautiful, and willing to give everything to save us all. She killed our cousin Tom in a suicide mission.

The news kept rolling, talking a little about the possible discussion topics at the Summit. Given the name, everyone seemed to agree there was some debate on whether we were under threat from an extraterrestrial source. Many, like myself, assumed this referred to the Andalites.

They spoke about Committee member Clyde Rogers, how he pushed the idea that the Andalites should share more than simple tech with us. Gaining the morphing tech had been a mistake, one of theirs had gone against them, and before they could stop it, it had spread. Other than that, we had no access to real useful technology from them.

They mentioned a Senator Gloria Hill. Of course I know the name, I didn't recall knowing she was related to Marco though. Her stance was that the Andalites could be trusted. She had to be insane.

The image next shifted to footage of someone I hadn't seen in years. Apparently someone filmed her walking down the street with a Hork-Bajir. The broadcasters said she was there to speak at the Summit, the alien too. They were speaking on the side of peace.

How could she! Cassie had been Rachel's best friend, and she was defending the monsters that started the war that killed her? Then again, that was just like her. Cassie always had been one to prefer peace.

I sighed, using the remote to turn off the television. It was time to get ready for tonight's dinner. Ever since Rachel's death, my mother has made a point of having a family dinner once a month. She even invites our father, which is great. It's sort of a way to make sure we don't take one another for granted.

Removing the claw from my hair I shook it out to let it fall freely past my shoulders. It hits abound mid back now, the same blonde shade Rachel's was. I combed my fingers through it as I made my way to my closet.

There was no requirement to dress up for dinner; it was just a home cooked family meal at my mother's house. But I still wanted to look nice. As I shifted through my tops I winced. It was definitely time for a closet cleansing. These were good enough to donate to charity, but I could stand to replace some of the clothes that my style had out grown.

Finally I settled on a light weight, short sleeved sweater in baby blue and a pair of white cords. Add a silver butterfly necklace, and clip my hair back, and I had completed a great casual look. I think Rachel would have approved.

I pulled on some ankle socks and a pair of low canvas shoes, grabbing a small purse before giving myself a final once over in the mirror. Satisfied, I made my way back outside to my car.

* * *

It wasn't a long drive to my mother's home, I live a few blocks away. Pulling into her driveway I noticed that Sara was already there. With a slow breath I braced myself. She and I don't always see eye to eye on the Andalites...but she's my sister, so of course I love her.

I walked up to Mom's door, knocking as a formality before opening the door and letting myself in, "Hey, guys. How's life?"

"Hi, Jordan!" Sara grinned at me from the living room where she had the coffee table occupied with various papers, "Life's pretty good. Working on my syllabus for next year. I need to tweak things."

My little sister is a history teacher at a middle school in a city south of here. It's summer now, but she's always working hard. It's something I admire.

"Good for you. Just don't forget to have fun." I smirked, wandering toward the kitchen in search of my mother.

"Like you're one to talk!" Sara called after me, "You're always so serious!"

Laughing I walked to where the food was cooking, giving the chef a one armed hug, "Hey, Mom. That smells great."

"Hi, sweetheart." She gave me a peck on the cheek before turning her focus back to dinner, "If you need something to do, set the table."

"Alright, alright." I gave a soft laugh, kissing her cheek before moving to gather the dishes.

When I had finished setting the table, I joined Sara on the couch, closing my eyes and thinking quietly. My mind wandered back to the Summit at ICER. If people decided the Andalites were a threat, then I wanted to do something to help stand against those creepy centaurs.

I didn't hear the car pulling into the driveway, or the knock on the door. I did, however; hear my dad calling out, "Guess who!"

"Hi, Daddy!" Sara grinned, getting up to wrap her arms around him. I couldn't help smiling slightly at them.

"Hey, Dad," I waved from my spot on the couch, "How are you?"

"What's this?" He frowned as he moved to stand behind me, "Is the fancy lawyer too grown up for hugs?"

I rolled my eyes, looked up at him and turned to kneel on the couch facing him, "You know I'm not."

"Good, then." We exchanged a brief hug and smile.

Sara gathered the papers she'd been working with and the three of us spent the rest of the time until dinner sitting there visiting.

* * *

Soon enough, the meal was ready. We gathered around the table; my eyes shifted automatically to the spot where she should be. She wouldn't want us to feel sad at all, that wasn't Rachel. Depression wasn't her thing, action was.

The food was being passed around and served. I followed suit automatically, a sense of determination setting in. The world was on the verge of war now, I knew what I had to do.

The family had settled into mundane talk about work and life. Mom was retired, though I told her she should get into politics. Dad still worked as a sports broadcaster, I don't think he'll retire until they force him. Sara discussed her new ideas for her class.

Drawing a breath, I interrupted their talk, "I'm leaving my practice."

Sure enough, that brought things to a sudden stop, all eyes on me. Mom was the first to recover, "What? But, Jordan, sweetheart, why? What on earth are you thinking, you can't just-"

"This is about that summit," Sara cut in with a frown, "What are you going do? Raise funds for some pointless war?"

"It's not pointless!" I shot back, my grip tight around my fork, "They're the reason Rachel's dead! So I'm going to help! Only I was thinking more like actually fighting!"

"No!" My mother gasped, Sara and my dad echoing her response.

"Jordan, we lost your sister already," She continued tearfully, "And I agree those creatures can't be trusted, but help from behind the scenes then, please! I can't lose another daughter!"

"Rachel wouldn't stand by and let someone else do the fighting!" I retaliated, sighing , "I know it's scary, Mom, but it's what I need to do..."

"You're too old to rush off and play soldier," My father shook his head, "And the Andalites weren't the ones that killed Rachel."

"Daddy's right!" Sara exclaimed. "Jordan, don't be stupid!"

"You two may be all love and peace about Andalites, but they'd wipe us out in a second!" I was shouting now, tears stinging my eyes. I knew I had ruined family dinner night, but I was too upset to really worry about it, "As soon as they announce that there will be a war, I'm leaving the practice and joining the service!"

"Alright, everyone, just calm down! We can talk about this when we've had more time to-" I didn't wait for mom to finish her attempt at regaining control of the situation.

"Thanks for dinner Mom. I'll be in touch guys," With that I grabbed my things and left.


	3. 3: Exsul

**Author's Notes:** Well, I hope there's been at least some enjoyment so far. Our factions are starting to shape up, and the two narrators that are characters from original canon have been revealed. So, who will be the first OC narrator? Oh, the site doesn't like the usual thought speak indicators, so I'm using double parentheses.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Animorphs. I do own this particular story, and though some characters may be influenced by others, I own the OC created for the stories. Credit for the concept of an Human education program on the Andalite world goes to traycon3 (If memory serves) who came up with it during an attempt I made to turn this story idea into a role play.

 **Guest Replies:** I'm not getting much action on this story...maybe because it's post series, or maybe because the Animorphs fandom in general doesn't get much action anymore.

 **Word Count:** 1143 w/o notes

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Exsul**

* * *

Today had been relatively calm thus far. Though I had a feeling perhaps the War Prince who was responsible for our training had gone easy on me again. It was probably why the others gathered at a distance, standing in a circle.

I tried to approach, but they took off at a run, beyond the academy and to a small tree lined field that served as our break area. While humans may think it looked like a park, it acted more as a cafeteria for me and my fellow Andalites.

My name is Exsul-Issil-Impator, and I am an Andalite aristh. Though I've barely made it to any rank and am still subject to frequent training drills. Of course, they're necessary in this time of peace, as we don't get to actually use our skills in combat.

((Hello,)) I attempted to greet my fellow aristh as I approached. They ignored me, turning away, and i felt my hearts sink. Of course, they resented me for getting special treatment. I hated that Prince Toraan was easy on me as well.

I was just as capable as any other fighter, I felt as capable...but they acted like I was delicate because I couldn't morph, I was a notallssith. Maybe I was weaker for it...a War Prince would know...he'd seen battle, fought in the war against the Yeerks. What did I know?

Scuffing my hoof against the grass I moved to a different section of the field. My steps were slow, uncaring as I absorbed nutrients through my hooves without thought.

Why think? What was there to think on? If ever I were to deploy, I would be stuck on a ship, fighting in close combat only as a last resort. More likely I would be trained for a position I could carry out from the home world. Never needing to risk blade or life.

My tail twitched at the notion and I ground my front right hoof hard into the grass, main eyes closed tight. My stalks drooped and shoulders slumped. Was anything worse than being a notallssith?

Suddenly I was let into the conversation of the other aristh where they stood in their circle a little ways off. Their thought-speak filtered into my mind as they discussed current events.

((They still let those humans study here,)) One of the more harsh aristh, Hiriinn, chimed in, ((It's a violation of Seerow's Kindness, isn't it? It's bad enough those fools Elfangor and Aximili gave the humans secrets...))

((I don't agree with humans being here,)) Kilreg, a small aristh who was a skilled morpher contributed, ((But Elfangor and Aximili are heros...))

((My father says the people are going soft...)) The next to speak was Uuret, a particularly strong looking aristh, ((It's sad really, like how they let anyone become a aristh.))

I saw how they glanced at me with their stalk eyes. My own swept away, but not in time to keep them from knowing I heard.

((Well, some of the humans they allow are little better than notallssith themselves,)) A rare female artisth, Ingari, quipped.

((I bet they were shipped off because they embarrassed the other humans,)) Uuret's reply was vicious.

((Like that one!)) Ingari swiveled her stalks to glare at the humans returning to their dorms, in particular a girl with vivid orange...or was it red...hair pushing herself along in a chair.

I let my stalk eyes follow, though as soon as they landed on the human girl I found myself opening my main eyes and turning to face her completely. I had heard about earth people bound to chairs, but I'd never seen one before. It filled me with a strange sort of excitable curiosity.

These humans were incapable of using their legs, debilitated, they couldn't walk! My hearts skipped as I considered this. It could happen for many reasons. Tragic accidents were a frequent cause; though through morphing technology humans can heal these injuries, assuming they are compatible with the method. Sadly there is also a tendency for humans to have genetic defects that take there ability to stand and walk.

It was rather tempting to call out to this girl. To seek in her a kindred spirit, trapped by limitations. Surely here on the Andalite Home World she would have morphed by now to regain her walking if such were possible. I wished to find out more about her. To ask which genetic disorder kept her chair bound.

Unaware I moved a step toward her as she drew closer. Her skin was light, dusted with freckles. But my focus was on how straight she sat. She kept her head high; laughing with another, walking, student. Her arms must have been strong, to push herself forward using the large wheels on her chair with seemingly little effort. And the other humans did not seem to reject her, or accept her out of pity.

Suddenly she turned to look at me. Had I accidentally let something slip through to her in thoughtspeak? My main and stalk eyes were quick to look away, each in a different direction. After a moment, I let my stalks glance up, expecting to find her going on her way.

Instead, there she sat, having lingered as the other students moved on. The mouth that split her face spread to display her teeth, the edges of her mouth tilted upwards. We've been taught this is a smile, and a way of expressing kindness. Her hand released the wheel, and she lifted it towards me in what's called a wave.

I swiveled my stalk eyes to the side, looking at my fellow aristh. They were, as expected, watching the interaction. I could read the disdain in their eyes.

Deciding for a course of boldness, I chose to return her human greeting. But before I could do more than lift my hand, the sound of commanding hoofbeats approached rapidly from base. I forgot my greeting, and the girl as the entire group of aristh turned to face an urgent looking Prince Toraan.

((Break time is over,)) The old Andalite commanded, his stalks narrowing over my shoulder as we gathered in front of him. He was looking at the chair bound girl, ((Come on, aristh. We're heading to an important meeting.))

We set off after him, back into the base. My left stalk eye turned toward where that human girl had been, but she was gone.

The Prince lead us down hall, then past where the turn that lead to the academy wing was. We knew better than to ask question him, but curious stalk eyes twisted in his direction.

((This isn't just our little group. There are going to be big issues discussed at this meeting.)) Turning down a side hall the he reversed his stalk eyes to look at us, ((Today could be the beginning of the rest of your lives.))

* * *

 **Post Note** : And so you meet Exsul, our third narrator. I'm curious as to what you think...I kind of suck at Andalite names...I hope the character is well done, though. Please leave a review so I know what people think. A constructive critique is appreciated, something you like and something that could be improved. Also, one more request for someone with military, particularly air force, experience to help me with ranks for the story.


	4. 4: Toraan

**Author** **'s Note**

I hope some people are liking this. Sorry for the delays. Here we have our fourth narrator. It's harder writing for him than I thought it would be! If you guessed at who it was, you get digital cookies!

 **Lingo Change**

I want to point out I've switched the word used to refer to Exsul's allergy to morph tech. I previously mistakenly used notallssith, which means an inability to control ones morph. While the allergy to the tech itself didn't come with a word I could find, I have opted for the Andalite word vecol. From the Animorphs fanpage wiki Seerowpedia a vecol is defined as an Andalite term referring to a disabled or crippled individual. Since almost all Andalites can morph, and the ones who can't that have been met in the actual series have pretty much always been injured in some fashion, I think knowing an artist is incapable of morphing would plausibly be looked at as a disability and a liability. Morphing heals, but any injury to a non-morpher would be permanent, making them seem inherently more fragile. I can't help but think they would have to work extremely hard to prove they had any real value to the bigoted Andalite people.

 **Disclaimer**

As per usual, I do not own the original concept of Animorphs. That series and any races, characters, tech, or language that originated with it are the property of K. A. Applegate and Scholastic. The ideas that form the basis of this sequel fic are largely influenced by world events. Credit for the idea of a 'Student Exchange' program goes to traycon3.

 **Word Count** : 3687

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Chapter 4: Toraan

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While most of the Aristh under my command were sparring with one another or working on improving their morphing abilities; I sparred with a particular charge, the single Vecol in the group. It wouldn't do to have him crossing tale blades with other youths who didn't have the experience to know the finesse it took to just barely hold back from injury. After all. This aristh couldn't morph to heal himself. It was foolish for him to even be enlisted.

I am Prince Toraan-Sinfiax-Lanstil; and in the peace that has taken hold since the downfall of the Yeerk Empire, I have been relegated to a glorified tutor with no purpose aside from training young artists. There was a day such tasks would fall to lower ranked officials. At least until the first deployment. But in peacetime, need for active fleet was low, and desire to join still high due to recent triumph.

My stalks swerved to the Vecol I clashed tail blades with, (Stalks alert. You have an even greater struggle than others around you in that you cannot afford the slightest injury! Be 200% attentive!)

(Sir), Exsul, the Vecol, was obviously frustrated as he tried to pin my blade to the ground while I swept low at his front legs, (200% is impossible, you know that.)

(It's impossible,) I conceded, flipping his tail aside and stepping to the left in search of an advantage, (But you must divide your attention, yet miss nothing. You aren't bad when against a single instructor, but in a combat situation with multiple opponents, you would not last a minute.)

And then my blade was quivering a centimeter from his throat, match over in my favor. I angled a single stalk to take in my other students, though my thought-speak was between the vecol and myself, (And, Exsul, any injury for you is more serious...you could be maimed, and then you are useless.)

Turning my thoughts public I addressed the others under my charge, (Kilreg, your morphing is possibly the fastest I have ever seen. You have quite the skill, it will do you well, but I think it high time you focus more on training your Andalite body. You are not getting out of sparring again.)

The youngest of the five aristh averted his stalks with some embarrassment at my stern assessment. I let him reflect on my words and turned to the next, (Ingari, being a female you seem to have a natural advantage in fleetness and balance. That's good. Yet your focus is lax, you treat training like some sort of game! Do you even want to be here, or would you rather prance about in the forests?)

Four eyes hardened in my direction and I could tell she wanted to react, but she kept her thoughts to herself. My main eyes crinkled in a confident smirk, letting her know she made the wise decision.

Now my stalks scanned the room, letting the two remaining aristh fret over who would be appraised next. Each eye landed on a separate individual before both snapped over to Uuret, (You are strong, you swing your tail blade with confidence and force. Foolishness. Confidence is good, but can too easily become cockiness. And the momentum behind each swipe of your tail makes it too hard for you to follow through with another maneuver. Try to use your mind, if you were given one, and plan ahead!)

The aristh looked properly put in place, if angered. Then from the corner of my main eyes I saw the oldest of my charges looking smugly at his friend. Quickly my stalks whipped round on him, followed by my head turning to look on him with narrowed gaze, (Is something amusing, Aristh Hiriin? Because you look amused, despite your wretched performance. I have never seen such sloppy efforts at morphing! You chose entirely the wrong morph for the second scenario, and it took you so long I could have killed you multiple times during the process. Poor attempts at locations to minimize vulnerability...Exsul could have done better, and he's a Vecol! Your next job is to focus on morphing more than fighting. Perhaps you and Kilreg can find what you lack by helping one another!)

There was no doubt I touched a nerve for Hiriin, but he need knocked down a peg, for certain. Moving towards the training rooms exit I stopped long enough to give them orders, (When we resume, training will be as such: Kilreg, you are to help instruct Hiriin in what he is lacking in morphing ability. Ingari, you help Uuret with fleetness and balance. Show him that being nimble is a valuable skill. Half way through,the student and teacher switch. Hiriin will help Kilreg with sparring, Uuret will help Ingari with focus and drive. Exsul, you will be with me...again.)

Even with my back to them I could feel the irritation they had toward Exsul. That Vecol needed sheltered, though. So I needed to be his sparring partner, (You are dismissed, go and eat. We will continue afterward.)

I stepped out of the training room and decided to head toward the quarters that served as an office for my use. There I could make data entries on my underlings latest progress. No sooner had I stepped into the new room, however, than the thought speak of an announcement targeting myself and certain other squad leaders filled my mind.

 _(you are hearing this, you are too dismiss those under your command and report to Command Room A immediately.)_

My blade twitched at the curious call, how interesting. Of course my plans shifted gears instantly as I set a quick pace to the command center.

The others in the meeting were an array of Princes, like myself relegated to training recruits with the lack of combat. Our stalk eyes shifted, assessing one another in hopes that someone might possess a clue as to why we had been summoned.

(Good, you are all here,) War-Prince Jothorr-Horix-Apudiin, a battle hardened Andalite who had witnessed historic battles beginning the time of the Hork Bajir planet's downfall entered the room, his stalks sweeping over half of us as his main eyes took in the rest, (There are important things to discuss.)

We did not dare to even glance at one another. Jothorr was a veteran that commanded respect, and we gave it to him, remaining silent as he delivered his reason for our summons.

(As you know, since the victory over the Yeerks those many years ago we have had a cautious peace with the humans,) Posture commanding, main eyes locked forward with stalks slowly capturing our reactions he continued, (And I am sure you have heard, and accurately believe, the claims that we are monitoring certain human broadcast waves.)

War-Prince Jothorr paused for effect, my stalk eyes met his in the moment he spoke next, (Our caution seems to have been wise, these broadcasts have grown more disturbing with each day. And now the humans have gathered a counsel of war!)

The burst of jumbled thought speak responses filled my mind, but for me there was only silent contemplation of what this meant for my aristh. They were still far from ready.

(They have not yet declared their intentions, or openly admitted to the purpose of their gathering. But there is much of hatred towards us, and there are many of them hoping for war,) His four eyes narrowed, (As such, we must prepare. It is time we bear down upon our young aristh. We must see that they are fit for the inevitable conflict that will occur within the near future.)

(War-Prince Jothorr...sir...) One of the other attendees of the gathering ventured, the nervousness he held at being so bold as to interrupt the declaration of the wise elder clear. I shifted my stalks to look his way, and though the younger warrior stood tall and alert his tail was slung low and twitching in a sign of submissive caution.

With four narrowed eyes the great warrior looked to the disruption, (What is it? Something important, I trust?)

Though he was an Andalite and a hero; Jothorr had, in some circles, earned a reputation for being nearly as frightening as the old Yeerk Abomination himself. I doubted he could be that vile, but it spoke to his temper for certain. It was why very few dared to question his authority.

(I...think so, War-Prince Jothorr, Sir...) As the other's courage began to fail under the withering glare of his superior his tail slung lower. I didn't envy him, trying to recall his name as he rapidly projected his comment into our minds, (What-sort-of-threat-do-the-humans-pose?They've-limited-technology-and-are-physically-without-claws-or-blades?)

(Don't jumble your thoughts like a school boy.) Jothorr scolded as though talking to a child, (And I would have gotten to that. The humans are not as helpless as we once presumed. True, they are rather backwards compared to us, however; they are capable of adapting far more quickly that we suspected.

(As you know, they have access to an escafil device, given to them by our own Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul in violation of Seerow's kindness. His action has been forgive and overlooked quite often. Because the children to whom he was foolish enough to bestow our technology happened to be capable of playing a role in ending the war with the Yeerks. This small group, however, was only the beginning,) With a sigh he continued, (And the escafil device fell into the hands of a human society known as the 'United States of America' which uses it to provide our technology to warriors for their causes.

(On top of this,) He continued amid the angered thoughts of our gathering, (The Humans have had access to Yeerk ships left stranded on their planet. Ships built based on Andalite technology from the original mistake of Seerow's Kindness. These, combined with Skrit Na ships that have crashed upon their world through the years, have allowed them to build their own battle capable space fleet.)

He closed his main eyes, turning his stalks skyward, (They are clever little thieves, they may have adjusted the space travel technology in unexpected ways. Plus they have the advantage of a planet filled with animals we've only begun learning about. Aximili did give us some information from his time on earth, but who knows how much we've yet to uncover.)

The room was eerily free of projected thought as we absorbed this information. The humans might actually have a chance if they were as creative as they seemed.

(Now,) Jothorr gained our attention once more, (We will begin by increasing the numbers in training groups...each individual here will be paired two others, those under their command shall be trained together in a unit. Get them ready to work work well together, soon they will have to be in close quarters on a Domeship. For now, they will be assigned to a wing of the training barracks together so they can adjust. I will personally be checking on your aristh in a few days time to see how they're progressing.)

He move to a consol, calling up a display of the names of those gathered and the aristh we worked with. Beside that he summoned the layout of the training barracks. His main gaze studied the information steadily, his stalk eyes occasionally swiveling round to glance at one or the other of us.

There were twelve of us total; each having four to six aristh under our command. He was trying to figure out how to best situate us into four wing based on those numbers, and our reports on our charges. Compatibility as a squad was important, and though it could be learned and forced, natural chemistry was better.

(As I tell you which barracks wing you will be in; you will meet with your fellow wing commanders to discuss arrangements,) Jothorr's authoritative thought speak ordered, (Take time to figure out how many aristh you have between you, when you will all meet up for team introductions. Then retrieve your aristh and report to the barracks wing. Quarters assignments will be posted when you arrive.)

The first wing assignments were named, I was not among them but the warrior who had questioned the threat humanity posed was. I watched with my stalk eyes as the group of three gathered. Jothorr immediately continued, (In the second wing: Prince Toraan-Sinfiax-Lanstil, Prince Awera-Medaff-Tooshin, and Prince Baslar-Axela-Cenriann.)

I looked to where I had seen Baslar standing as I moved forward. His eyes were all focused elsewhere; and I knew even before I followed that narrowed gaze with my stalks who it was trailing. He had been my friend in our aristh days, I could read his prejudice.

Awera-Medaff-Tooshin was the first female to reach Prince status, making her a well known Andalite. The only female in the room, she held herself with confidence as she met the contempt in my friend's eyes. Her tail curved elegantly, relaxed behind her in a stance that said she felt no threat from him.

It wasn't uncommon for females to still be regarded with disdain by the males in our ranks. They were typically meant to pursue the sciences or arts, not military. I was probably in this arrangement as a stabilizing factor...friend to the male, with a female aristh under my command that gave me a point of connection to Awera. It wasn't a pleasant role to think about.

(Prince Baslar, Prince Awera, I look forward to seeing what our aristh can do together,) I spoke to both of them as we grouped at the back of the room. Switching to private thought speak I singled out Baslar, (My friend, try to control your prejudices...your eyes are quite telling.)

One of Baslar's stalks swerved toward me, acknowledging he understood; though he made little change to his expression as he greeted us, (It will be good to work together again, Prince Toraan. Hello, Awera.)

(Oh, my,) The female stopped a couple feet from my friend, regarding him with her stalk eyes as she shifted her main eyes to focus on me, (Despite Prince Baslar's apparent dislike for me, I look forward to training our aristh together as well. I hear you have a young female in your ranks, Prince Toraan?)

(Yes, Ingari. She's good with agility and speed, but lacks in discipline,) With my stalks I watched Baslar glare at Awera.

(Hmm, we can work on that. I believe that she is the only female other than the two I have. That explains why you and I are in the same wing,) Turning to the last of our trio, appraising him with her full sights, (Then there's you. Are we going to have a whole team of bigots to put up with?)

(My team can make the best of whatever their dealt. Do not worry,) Baslar responded. He shifted his stalks to me, (Toraan's got the weakest link. How's the non morpher doing?)

(A vecol?) Awera looked at me in surprise, )I'd heard one was among the aristh...he's on your team?)

(Exsul-Issill-Impator...he is. With enough work we might get him ready...) I closed my eyes in thought.

(I suppose we have a notion of our group now, )The female Prince split her gaze between us, (If there are no objections, I suggest we retrieve our teams, head to the Barracks wing and give them some time to get used to their accommodations. We can meet in the wing's briefing room for introductions in forty-five, that's plenty of time.)

(Who says you give orders?) Baslar took a step toward her.

(Well, I did ask for objections if there were any...this is a group effort,) Awera letting her eyes smirk, (So, tell us what you suggest, and we can get Toraan's opinion, we'll compromise.)

(Let's just get our aristh,) I interjected, (Forty-five is plenty of time to get everyone ready. No one is trying to give orders.)

With that, I was the first to depart, leaving no room for objection. Baslar was going to be insufferable throughout this, I could tell. I wasn't thrilled at working with a female Prince, but those were our orders. I planned to follow them without question.

I quickly made my way to the area where my aristh were grazing, easily noticing Exsul stood isolated from the others as they all turned to look at me. My stalk eyes glances to see what had previously been holding their focus, a human girl sat in a wheelchair, her hand slowly lowering as she cast a disappointed look in Exsul's direction.

(Break time is over,)I informed my group, looping the single human into my thought speak. A cripple girl wasn't a large threat, but the thought of what lie ahead between our races had my eyes narrowing in her direction. The expression she returned was hard to interpret as she set off for the human dormitories. It concerned me that Exsul seemed to have been interacting with her, he was vulnerable to forming sympathies for a human like that due to his own weaknesses.

(Come on, aristh,) I turn back into the base, knowing they would follow, but keeping a single stalk eye tuned in to Exsul's movements, )We're heading to an important meeting.)

I noticed the quick glance the non-morpher cast over his shoulder to where the human had been. I wouldn't call him out on it, yet. The situation would need monitoring, though.

Curious gazes were cast my way from my students' stalk eyes as I lead them past the wing where our normal trading area was located. They weren't bold enough to question me out loud, but I could feel them wondering, (This isn't just our little group. There are going to be big issues discussed at this meeting.)

I turned my stalks round to take in their reactions. They appeared nervous and yet excited as the glanced among each other, clearly engaged in private thought speak. Exsul met my gaze then looked down in thought, trying to puzzle out the possibilities on his own as I lead the group down a hall into the barracks , toward the wing we would be staying in.

(Today could be the beginning of the rest of your lives.) They understood that, the excitement at the chance of potential deployment showing, (Starting today, we transition to quarters living, accompanied by two other aristh teams and their leaders. You will first be assigned quarters in the barracks, then allowed some time to get used to the new setting. When you are summoned, you are to immediately report to the Training Hall at the end of our Barracks Wing.)

I waited for a sign that they understood the explanation I had given, and was met with a chorus of, (Yes, Prince Toraan.)

(Your quarters have already been assigned, the entrance to each has been programmed to display the occupants name. After you are settled, we'll get to know your know training partners and the other Princes on the wing.) I finished the rundown of our plans for the time being before dismissing them with a warning, (Now go on. And no trouble with any other aristh!)

When the aristh dispersed with an excited trot to their step, Exsul trailed behind. I felt a pang of sympathy at the way the others treated him, but I also understood that as determined as he was this was really not a place for a vecol. Perhaps if we started him on technical tasks he would be at least safe, fighting as a last resort.

That in mind, I headed for the Training Hall to reunite with Awera and Baslar. Of course, they seemed to be engaged in heated debate again as I arrived. Well, Baslar seemed heated judging by the fire in his four eyes as he glared at the female Prince. Awera, for her part watched him him with a cool confidence. If they were exchanging thought speak, I wasn't privy to the conversation.

In fact, I'm not sure they even noticed my presence. I moved to tap my blade against the door frame, a subtle way of drawing their attention, but Awera's keen senses caught the movement and her stalk eyes shifted toward me.

(Ah, Toraan, welcome,) She greeted, interrupting whatever tensions I had walked in on, which only seemed to upset my old friend more, (Now that you are here, we can begin talking training strategy for our combined aristh.)

(Obviously the females will be paired together,) Baslar demanded.

(Obviously they won't.) Awera returned with a cool glance in his direction. I had a distinct feeling this was what they had been discussing previously, (My female aristh are just as capable as your males. In the same way I am just as worthy of my title of Prince. Perhaps more worthy...I did have to work harder, after all...didn't I?)

That set Baslar's tail twitching in anger,( You are a fluke. Your precious little female aristh are misfits. I will not have my aristh forced to stoop-)

(Perhaps,) I interjected, attempting to sound impartial and calm, though my friends disrespectful behaviour was becoming annoying as he deliberately caused trouble, (By setting up the three female aristh against the males you might settle your own dispute. If Prince Awera is correct about the prowess of our females; then your males, having never faced a female before, would learn a valuable lesson about underestimating their opponents. If Prince Awera is wrong, however; there is no wound to your pride, Baslar, and your point is only proven.)

Baslar shot a stalk eyed glare of betrayal in my direction while Awera's eyes formed a triumphant smirk. The female spoke confidently, (That sounds fair enough...unless Prince Balsar is too embarrassed by the possibility of being proven wrong.)

(We will see who's wrong, Awera,) Balsar challenged, rising to the perfectly thrown bait. I had to admit that the way she led his reactions was superb, (Don't blame me if you aristh go prancing home in tears, though.)

At least that was one hurtle cleared. I only hoped things would eventually run more smoothly.


End file.
